


The True Master

by LazyFae



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU! Season 3 Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, OOC Harry, Possibly Slow Burn, Rating subject to change, but for a reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-23 15:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17083025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyFae/pseuds/LazyFae
Summary: In his fight to defeat the Master, the Doctor initially overlooks the man's adopted son. But when the end of the world begins, the unassuming young man who goes by Corvus Saxon shows that perhaps he has his own agenda. The Doctor discovers an interest in Corvus, during the year they are stuck together, that only deepens the more he looks.But the Doctor isn’t sure if getting drawn into Corvus’ ambiguous intentions is worth the attention of the human the Master seems to respect the most. Surely someone who can stand by and watch as the entire planet suffers has nothing promising planned.





	1. The Sound Of Drums

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of the story will be running over the last two episodes of season three with David Tennant; The sound of drums, and Last of the Timelords. Just with the addition of Harry's character.
> 
> If you havent watched those two episodes I recommend you do. I don't go into too great detail over what happens in those episodes minute by minute, but it would probably be easier to understand it all if you remember most of those two.
> 
> I never abandon a story, but expect sporadic updates. 
> 
> I have a decent story premise but no fleshed out plot so your guess is good as mine at this point at where the story will go. Tags will be added on as it’s written due to this.
> 
> Also this isn’t betaed

The Doctor, Martha and Jack stood in the street and looked at the screen, having just arrived from the future to look for the Master's whereabouts, with a sinking sense of horror and disbelief. The Master, aka Harold Saxon sauntered down the stairs arm in arm with his wife on the TV looking like he was King of the world.

"The Master is Prime Minister of Great Britain," the Doctor stated with heavy dismay.

This was worse than the Doctor had imagined; the unbridled power the insane Timelord would be able to easily gain being the Prime Minister of England froze his blood. The disbelief rose when the Master leant over and kissed his wife soundly.

"The Master and his _wife_ ," he couldn't tell if the idea of her knowing the truth about the Master’s nature was worse than the idea of her not knowing.

"And his son," Martha informed him with some disgust at the thought that such a malevolent force had been pretending to play happy families. The Doctor looked at where she was pointing on the screen.

The young, handsome man standing proudly on the Master's left and smiling charmingly at the cameras added another level to the Doctor’s rising disbelief, but was forgotten when the Master performed his speech about the state of the country, purposely mocking the Doctor with his words. This was not going to end well.

Back at Martha's home, doing a quick background check on the character of Harold Saxon, the countless videos portraying celebrities encouraging the general public to vote Harold Saxon deepened the revulsion of the Doctor’s companions for the situation. If he'd been so thorough how would they ever discredit him? The Doctor had known it would not be so easy though, and was begrudgingly impressed at how fast the newly reawakened Timelord had moved.

"Since my father adopted me, he has truly shown what an unstoppable, awe inspiring man he is. His dream for Great Britain is easily achievable if led by someone like him. Vote Harold Saxon," came the passionate, charming and convincing message of the Master's fake son- with his 'mother' holding his arm on one side smiling radiantly into the camera, and the Master on the other side standing behind with his hand on the young man's shoulder and looking proudly at his 'son'.

"Former Minister of Defence. First came to prominence when he shot down the Racnoss on Christmas Eve... nice work by the way," Jack told the Doctor.

"Hm? Oh thanks," came Timelord’s slightly absent minded reply, sitting cross legged on the arm of the sofa as his thoughts flashed.

"But he goes back years. He's famous! Everyone knows the story, look," Martha protested in confusion as she walked to toward the laptop displaying the information, "Cambridge University, rugby blue, won the athletics thing, wrote a novel, went into business, marriage, adoption, everything! He's got a whole life," she gestured towards the pictures as she listed off his well known achievements.

The Doctor rubbed his face thoughtfully as he tried to figure out how on earth the Master had managed to dupe the whole world into believing Harold Saxon existed for years, in what had to be the short space of months. This had all spiralled out of control so quickly, and he felt like he was struggling along behind the Master's plans, while the net was tightening around him and the rest of world.

* * *

The wife of the new Prime Minister faced the goddamn nosy interfering reporter with rising fear, as the shrew listed off falsehood after falsehood that the Master had spun to the public about his background. When she mentioned the Archangel Network that Harold Saxon had implemented globally, Lucy's heart almost stopped. If this bloody woman could so easily find out all the informant needed to bring her husband and therefore herself down, who else was also on the right track? For a moment her breath caught in terror, and she imagined them bearing down on her with the truth in their hands like a pack of blood hounds hunting.

What did the cow want? Money? Did she want to gloat before she released the truth? She was barely holding her ignorant facade together as she breathed her replies, and a cold sweat built up.

"But I've got plenty of research on you and some on your son," the reporter stated, warmth in her voice. She hardly dared believe her luck when the woman read out some basic information on her and Corvus and wrote them both off as 'essentially harmless’.

Her pulse was still racing, but her breathing was slowing down again. What a fool, just because she and Corvus had a genuine background did not mean they were harmless. What sort of idiot assumed that? Especially when it came to Corvus. When he was dismissed as not especially bright alongside herself, while the woman moved to sit next to her on the sofa in an attempt at familiarity to calm her, she felt a moment of sharp contempt. They may not be as academically brilliant as the Master, but both were intelligent in their own ways. It was why the Master kept them around. He had no time for stupid people.

The momentary helplessness she had felt at their whole plans unraveling in front of her was banished, and the quiet power she had come to revel in through tricking the entire world came rushing back. Either her darling Harry or Corvus would be back any moment, she just had to keep this far too informed woman occupied until Harry could deal with her.

She calmed her heart as she played the role of confused and hesitant wife living in ignorance, reluctantly being shown the truth of the liar that was Harold Saxon. The woman was practically slavering at the possibility of getting dirt on her husband to bring him down. She heard the door quietly open and the dynamic force that was the Master slip into the room. The woman was so caught up in Lucy's hedging that she didn't even notice. 'Time's up you bitch' she thought viciously.

"I made my choice," she said determinedly, hyper aware of her husband listening and watching her announce her loyalty to him, no matter what.

"I'm sorry?" The reporter asked, confused. Lucy looked resolutely at the woman.

"For better or for worse... isn’t that right, Harry," her tone conveyed subtle triumph, and she watched startled fear flicker across the reporter's face, as the realisation that she had been caught out landed in her mind.

"My faithful companion," came his sexy smooth tone, washing over her and igniting the ruthless power lust inside of her as it always did. She looked on with predatory anticipation, while the reporter blustered and and made up stammering excuses, snatching up her documents and hastening to leave.

"Oh but you're absolutely right. Harold Saxon doesn't exist," the Master calmly informed the woman as he came to stand behind the sofa. Lucy felt a tingle down her spine and her breath hitched, she could tell where this was going, even if the pathetic reporter didn't. She loved this suave, in control killer side of him. At least the idiot woman realised the game was up though because she stopped trying to escape and fronted him out, like she had any power in the situation.

"Then tell me. Who are you," her voice was hostile and cold, but the Master barely even registered this useless show of strength.

"I am the Master," came his sinister reply, "and these are my friends." His arms raised, gesturing to the four silver lined black floating spheres that teleported into the room, around the Master. Their smooth appearance belied their deadly ability.

"But..." The reporter eyed the spheres hovering around the Master warily, the seriousness of the situation sinking in.

"I'm sorry," Lucy compassionately stated. And she was. She was sorry that this was going to hurt so much, she was sorry despite the reporter's best efforts her work had been futile. She did not want to see the woman succeed, but she could appreciate wasted talent, and the reporter clearly had a strong mind not to have been taken in by the suggestive messages sent out by the Archangel network to **Trust** **Harold** **Saxon**.

"Can't you hear it Mrs Rook?" The Master asked.

"What do you mean?" Nervousness and fear finally registering in her tone.

"The drum beat. The drums are coming closer and closer," his ominous words like a signal for the orbs to approach the reporter, who backed away in terror, trying to keep an eye on all four at once.

"The lady doesn't like us," came a petulant girl's voice from one, as long thin needle like weapons sprung from the orbs.

The reporter was shaking all over, as she clung to her folder and slowly backed away, "no...no," she gasped.

"Silly lady. Dead lady," another orb childishly scolded the reporter. The spinning blades closed in on her and she finally le5 loose a terrified scream.

Lucy and the Master hastily exited the room to avoid the blood splatter. That would be too awkward to explain and they hadn't a change of clothes with them. They slammed the door shut behind them, cringing as the woman's pain filled scream carried out into the corridor and then cut off. It was a good thing the doors were sound proof. They paused outside the door, waiting for anyone to come ask questions about the scream, or for the gruesome murder inside the room to abate.

The Master let out a whoosh of air, and then opened the door a crack. The high pitched scream scream immediately pierced the air, causing both Lucy and the Master to wince at the loud grating noise. He quickly closed the door again, and Lucy saw out of the corner of her eye that his grimace was filled with amusement.

Moments later he once again opened the door, unleashing the scream, and Lucy quickly looked away and scrunched up her face as her ears perceived the horrible noise. She knew he'd done it on purpose this time, and while she saw the humour in it, she certainly didn't find it as funny as him.

The door closed once more, and the Master bit his his knuckle and squinted his eyes in mock empathy for the pain she was going through. Clearly he thought the noise she was making was causing about the same amount to his ears that he figured the weaponised orbs were handing out to her.

Lucy was too worried about the meaning people like her could have for their plans to give him the usual adoring look she did. She abruptly pushed herself off of the wall.

"But she knew," she breathed in fear, "Harry she knew everything. You _promised_. You said Archangel was 100%"

If there were more people out there like Mrs Rook who Archangel hadn't convinced, they could be in a lot of trouble. The panic she had felt in the room began to return.

"Ehh 99... 98?" The Master's blasé tone hid the irritation he felt building at her near hyperventilating worry.

"But if she's asking questions then who else? How much time have we got?" She frantically exhaled, her anxiousness clearly showing.

There was a pause, in which she missed the smouldering anger in the Master's eyes when he looked at her. Useless questions, stupid ape. It didn't matter if an entire organisation started desperately digging into facts now. It wouldn't stop what was happening tomorrow because they wouldn't have enough time to compile the needed evidence and show it to enough people to get a listening. He hated it when she panicked like this. Her face went all pink and her voice got all wheezy and ugly. Sometimes he just wanted to hurt her.

"Don't worry Lucy, I've been keeping an eye on research specifically like Mrs Rook's. The reason she came to you directly was because no newspaper or gossip magazine would give her story a second look. I made sure of it," Corvus' near perpetually kind, calm tone penetrated Lucy's building panic and abated it, much to the Master's relief, it had been looking like he would need to comfort her for a second much to his displeasure.

"Anyone who's looking to do serious damage will come to someone the Master's close to for proof. Which is me or you." The Master gave Corvus a proud smirk and Corvus twitched his lips in return.

This is why he preferred Corvus. The kid was useful, independent and he didn't need constant shepherding and convincing. He didn't ask many questions after he got the big picture, and he was generally more pleasing to be around. Plus he'd been there since the moment the Master had stepped out of the TARDIS. On top of that he didn't insist on using the fake name of Harry in private like Lucy did in an attempt to humanise him.

Corvus knew he wasn't human, and didn't want him to be since he didn't care either way.

"Corvus," he greeted with as much genuine warmth as he could really muster for anyone. He knew Lucy carried some jealousy for Corvus, but she also appreciated him. When the Master was too overcome by the beating of the drums in his head his behaviour became too intense and frightening for even her. But not for Corvus, who accepted even his intensely hate filled rants of the Doctor, their past, Gallifrey, Timelords, humans and war with barely a blink. He also did not require any affection, be it by words or touch, that the Master was not happy to give.

He barely had to pretend around Corvus, and if he had to keep one human alive out of all of them on a whim, it would be his adopted son. He called Lucy his companion to mock as many aspects of the Doctor's life as he could. But in a choice between them he would pick Corvus over Lucy any day.

"Master, what was that awful sound just a moment ago?" Corvus asked curiously. The Master smiled ruefully at the young man.

"Apparently the kids took offence at Mrs Rook's attitude," he admitted with faux regret, Corvus snorted and grimaced slightly.

"She sounded like a banshee."

"Oops, sorry I'll try to keep it down next time," the Master winced. Corvus' eyes glimmered with laughter at the Master's apologetic face.

"Please do. Some of us are trying to work. I understand you superior beings don't need quiet to think straight but we apes have lower intelligence and need optimum conditions to run efficiently," Corvus smiled slightly. It was a running joke between them, Corvus lightly berating the Master for being inconsiderate for the poor apes who struggled so much more on a day to day basis than him.

"After tomorrow morning, I promise you'll have more quiet to utilise that painfully primitive brain of yours. That's when everything ends," the Master grinned slightly manically, and pulled Lucy into an embrace, where she clung to him, breathing in his scent to put a smile on her face again.

Corvus rolled his eyes softly as he too was pulled into the embrace by the Master's other arm, but leaned against the Timelord and rested his head on his shoulder in an act of acceptance.

* * *

The Doctor sat on the chair by the desk, a cup of tea in hand, as they tried to figure out how the Master had manage to so successfully integrate himself into the society he was forced to go to when the Doctor jammed the coordinates just before the Masters stole the TARDIS.

Martha had taken his place on the arm of the sofa, and Jack stayed on his feet, too restless to sit down for long.

"The most he could have been here is eighteen months," the Doctor asserted confidently, "so how's he managed all this?" They were all perplexed by the speed he'd managed to work at.

They'd had a look at the people who said they were family, and although Lucy had an extremely wealthy and well connected background, which she had use to help Harold Saxon enormously, it wasn't enough to explain the speed at which he'd gained the trust of the world.

"The Master always was sort of... hypnotic," the Doctor admitted, trying not to blush when he remembered that one time the Master had tried to distract him by... Yeah not thinking about that, "but this is on a massive scale."

"I was gonna vote for him," Martha stated.

"Really?" The Doctor thought Martha was smarter than to vote for someone she hadn't looked into properly, and didn't know about fairly intimately.

"Well it was before I even met you. And I liked him," she said as though it were as simple as that. Doctor supposed for a lot of voters it was.

"Me too," Jack added. The Doctor looked at them both intrigued, whatever had been used to convince everyone else had clearly worked on Jack and Martha too, both intelligent people and wilful. Jack at least might have noticed something off about the man but he had been as caught up in the Harold Saxon hype as everyone in the country.

"Why do you say that?"

Jack looked at the Doctor slightly blankly, as though he hadn't even considered the question before. There was a pause, and Jack's brow furrowed momentarily before he opened his mouth to talk.

"What's his policy? What does he stand for?" Those at least were easier questions to answer, he looked to Martha this time and was a bit disturbed but interested to see the same slightly blank look on her face as she was confronted by a question she had never even thought of before.

This one was more obviously worrying.

"I dunno, he always sounded... good," she tried to explain why she had found Harold Saxon so compelling, tapping her fingers as she attempted to find the right words, "like you could trust him. Just nice, like how he adopted his kid and gave him a home and..."

To the Doctor it sounded like the only solid thing the man had actually used in his favour was his adopted son, who was used to garner sympathy and give an image of a benevolent man.

She tapped her fingers a little harder to dislodge memories of when she had seen him speak.

"He spoke about... I can't remember but it was good. Just the sound of his voice..."

"What's that?" He asked sharply, pointing at her tapping fingers and shocking her out of her trance.

"What?"

"That! That tapping, that rhythm. What're you doing?" He asked.

"I dunno, it's nothing! It's j- I dunno!" She cried slightly defensively. Before the Doctor could question her further the laptop alerted them that the Prime Minister was about to broadcast a message across Britain, and rushed to turn on the TV.

He watched with mounting concern as the Master began to talk about the existence of aliens, and then introduced a football sized black and silver orb with a line of small flashing lights on it. When he called them the Toclafane, the Doctor's concern raised to alarm. There was no way these weren't some insidious invention of the Master's, but how did he get hold of them and what were their purpose?

His plan to televise the so called Toclafane’s meeting with him the next morning at least gave the Doctor the time that he needed to be there in order to stop whatever the insane Time Lord wanted to do. Before he could think of a counter plan though, he found the bomb strapped to the back of the television, and forced everyone to run for their lives out of the room to escape the imminent explosion.

The discovery that the Master had included Martha's family in his plans immediately set Martha into red alert, and she desperately called her mother in order to find out if she was alright. It would be safer if she didn't call them at all, since there was more on the line than just her family members, but when he warned her she snapped at him. He supposed it was one of the differences between him and his companions; when his loved ones were in danger, he included them as one of the people to save, whereas they forgot anyone was in danger but the people they cared about.

It could be frustrating, but it was part of what made them human, so he didn't say anything further when she called her parents and subsequently caused them to be arrested while they raced to her mother's house in a car, in the hope to rescue her parents before they were taken away. He stayed silent when she called her sister just in time for her to be arrested as well. He stayed silent all the way until they were facing down the end of a bunch of guns and Martha's mother herself was screaming at them to leave from the back of the van they were locked in, and even then he only spoke to yell at her to reverse.

In fact it was Jack who ended up saying something, as she made an angry and sarcastic remark about the Doctor assuring them that the only place the Master could have gone to was planet earth earlier on that day. They understood that it was her family being targeted and she was worried, angry, scared and feeling helpless, but this was no time to start throwing the blame around and making things more difficult for them all.

As they ditched the car, she finally managed to call her brother and make sure he didn't go home. If she could save one family member from Harold Saxon then she would feel all the better from it. The relief and urgency in her voice was immediately frozen when Harold Saxon's voice oozed out of the phone into her ear. He was listening in to the conversation.

Corvus leaned against the wall and shared a small grin with the Master at Martha's easily riled up state when she screamed at the man down the phone to let her family go.

Like that would achieve anything. It was just making the Master all the more amused.

When the Doctor took the phone and began speaking instead, the smile dropped immediately off of the Master's face, and Corvus looked on with interest as he witnessed the Doctor and the Master interact properly for the first time. It was fascinating, and told him a lot about how the Master and the Doctor saw each other, or at least how they saw each other now.

Being the only person the Master felt comfortable enough around to even marginally talk about the Doctor to, Corvus had an insight to the Master's mentality toward the Doctor that almost no one else did. He even understood bits that he didn't think the Doctor was aware of.

And it didn't matter how much the Master seduced Lucy and made her feel powerful, special. Or how much the Master acted as though he was proud of Corvus and called him his protégée, Corvus was highly aware that all of this, everything, was for the Doctor. The only person that truly mattered to the Master besides himself was the Doctor. The Master had decided to use earth to wage war on the universe because the Doctor loved this planet so much. Corvus had noticed he liked to do that to the Doctor; things that would break his hearts and horrify him out of spite and hatred, but at the same time were a homage to things that the other Timelord respected and cared about out of his own twisted fucked up sense of love.

When the Master spoke to the Doctor, Corvus knew he was all but forgotten. He might as well not even exist. But he watched. The Master's reactions were far more withheld and subdued than at almost any other time, but he showed more genuine emotion in the nuances of his expressions as the topics shifted than all of the many masks he wore almost constantly.

Hatred, awe, love, joy, rage, bitterness, grief, satisfaction, loneliness, fear. A myriad flashed through his eyes as they spoke. And then Corvus saw it, the shift, and the Master's mask was back on. The Doctor had attempted to reach out, and now the Master was playing games again. He taunted the Doctor by pretending to show jealousy and awe over the power the Doctor must have felt in toppling the Timelords and the Daleks, and he sank back into the madness of the drumming in his head.

But even now, as he talked of the drums of war, it was not like when he spoke to the others. Corvus could see that this time it was not just a warning to the one he spoke to as a precursor to their death, or something else similarly violent. This was not just him utterly lost in the beat that was in his head. This was also partially an explanation, partially an apology, partially the Master's own fear and confusion over what the drums were, making him reach out to the one being in the whole universe he hoped could tell him, if not hear them too.

But the Master's mask was too good and Corvus didn't think the Doctor could tell that. Too secure in his age old diagnosis of the Master's madness and villainy to see the vulnerability the Master hid so well, too focused on saving his precious humans to really try to save the Master. Though Corvus doubted the Doctor alone could save the broken Timelord, not now. So the game was back on and the Master was chuckling at humans' stupidity as they allowed him to make the only people who could saved them wanted fugitives.

"You're public enemies number 1, 2 and 3," satisfaction colouring the taunt, "you'll have to thank Corvus for that idea. I feel like such a proud dad. Oh and you can tell handsome Jack that I've sent his little gang off on a wild goose chase to the Himalayas, so you won't be getting any help from them."

The Doctor realised, through the Master's next words that he was using CCTV to track them, and promptly used his sonic screwdriver to break the camera. Corvus could see the rising fury, and passion in the Timelord and he knew this was also about revenge. Revenge for all the times the Doctor had beaten him after the academy despite how intelligent the Master was and despite how he could outstrip him academically, it was for the fall of Gallifrey and the Timelords that he both adored and despised. For making the Master as lonely as the Doctor was.

"Run, Doctor. Run for your life! I said RUN!"

And the Doctor ran.

Corvus said nothing as he leaned against the wall whilst the Master flipped through the channels on his laptop. There was nothing to say that had anything to do with him, and though Lucy would have made a comment, Corvus knew it wasn't his place as a human chess piece amongst the Master's game of chess with a fellow Timelord. It was why the Master preferred Corvus.

Something put an amused smile on the Master's face, and gestured to the screen for Corvus to take a look. It was of some grotesque looking, colourful, over sized bear with an almost human face, antenna sticking out of its head, television in its stomach, wearing a tutu and making nonsensical joyous noises while it pranced about.

"Have you seen these things? This planet's amazing. Television in their stomach, now that is evolution." Corvus could tell the Master was mocking him along with all other humans, and instead of making a sarcastic reply as he was wont to do, he quirked an eyebrow as the screen, his face portraying he incredulity at the weird shit that human beings came up with.

"I never watched TV when I was young," he didn't quite manage to smother how disturbing he found the colourful prancing things, making the Master smirk at him.

A Toclafane teleported into the room, interrupting them just as they were about to start one of their usual humour filled conversations.

"Is the machine ready?" The female voice asked with eagerness.

"Tomorrow morning. It reaches critical at 8:02," he informed, sipping on his whisky.

"We have to escape, because it's coming sir! The darkness, the never ending darkness-"

Corvus slipped out of the room with a mildly irritated sigh and the Master shot him a jealous look that he could escape the damn thing's frightened ranting. They always went on about it and it annoyed the Master like crazy, but they were too useful to destroy when they got on his last nerve.

* * *

That night, the President landed in Britain, and the Master, Lucy and Corvus were there to greet the man.

Lucy and Corvus took one look at the uptight self important man and knew the Master was going to hate him. With the Master's way of mocking everything and messing about, with his inappropriate emotional responses, the fact that he took very little on this earth seriously, especially not politicians, and Corvus knew they had two personalities that would clash quickly.

What the President didn't know, though, was that he was playing right into the Master's hands when he demanded the meeting not take place on sovereign soil. Government could be so predictable.

Lucy and Corvus both smothered laughs when the Master got the President to finally react and call him an ass. The man was clearly an idiot.

"Since it's too late to pull out now, the whole world will be watching. Me," the stupid, stiff man marched off while Corvus snorted derisively at his back.

"The last president of America," the Master breathed triumphantly to them both. As the three left for the Valiant aircraft carrier, where the meeting would take place the next day between the soon to be dead President and the Toclafane, Corvus could tell the Master's attention was divided.

He was watching something out of the corner of his eye, but maintaining a blank mask. The only person he would pretend like that for was someone he was leading into a trap. Most likely the Doctor, since whoever he was keeping an eye one was beyond even Corvus' own keen senses. It looked like he would be on the Valiant without the Master dragging him there in cuffs after all. Corvus knew the Master probably wanted a bit of time to mock the Doctor without the man even knowing it, so he left with Lucy, after sharing a knowing glance with the smug looking Prime Minister.

The next morning the Master, Lucy and Corvus arrived on the Valiant, with the Master swaggering confidently up to the President. Both wife and adopted son looked on with amusement as the Master mocked the President some more, before being told to sit down.

It was like the Master was trying to make the poor man's last day alive as frustrating as possible.

"What do you think? It's good isn't it?" The Master asked Lucy and Corvus while he pulled a chair out for them both. Lucy held a hand to her chest and looked around the Valiant.

"It's beautiful," she praised as she sat down.

"When you said state of the art father, I was hoping for some wind in my hair at least. You did help design it after all," Corvus teased. The Master smirked at him.

"Don't worry I kept it in mind when I helped design this place. Every detail," the man replied with a sinister look on his face.

"Oh?" Corvus knew he was also implying the power he had over the others here.

"Yes, I had a fan installed into your room," the man smirked.

"I'm impressed," his son honestly told him.

Lucy looked adoringly at the Master and leaned against him, while Corvus casually took out a notepad and started playing hangman with the Master. If they waited too long the Master would get bored and start making trouble, so Corvus and Lucy did their best to distract him.

At the clock rolled down to 8:00, and the President started making his address to the whole world, Corvus, the Master and Lucy watched on with barely suppressed anticipation. Their plans were about to come to fruition.

The Doctor entered the room, along with Martha and Jack during the President's speech, their perception filters making them fade into the background with the others. The Doctor knew he had a small space of time to disrupt the perception the Master was sending out to everyone else by slipping his own perception filter around the man's neck, and thus making everyone see him as he truly was.

"I give you the Toclafane," the President stood back with a small smile, and raised his hand as the four black and sliver orbs teleported into the Valiant, by the President. Every single person watched with rapt attention, unable to take their eyes off of the Toclafane, their eyes filled with wonder, excitement, caution and a slight amount of fear. All apart from the six people in the room who had more of an idea of what was going on. The Doctor, Jack and Martha eyed the orbs with worry and a building sense of dread, whilst Lucy and Corvus looked on with a small smile. The Master was grinning madly

"My name is Arthur Coleman Winters, President elected of the United States of America and designated representative of the United Nation. I welcome you to the planet Earth and its associated moon." The Doctor could see the man's nervousness, hidden behind a confident front.

This was not going to end well, but he couldn't quite tell what the Master's plan was.

"You're not the Master," came the masculine voice from the Toclafane.

"We like the Mister Master," added the female voice.

"We don't like you," the orbs began to hover jerkily, the tone becoming agitated and clipped.

"I... Can be Master, if you so wish," the President attempted to regain control of the conversation, trying to keep an eye on all of the orbs at the same time as they moved around, "I will accept mastery over you if that is God's will."

"Man is stupid," the masculine voice scorned, "Master is our friend."

The Doctor saw the smug look on the Master's face as he observed the President floundering and attempted to subtly get closer.

"Where's my Master?" Came the concerned female voice, "pretty please."

"Oh alright then, it's me," the Master said, not even trying to sound anything but crazy, "tadaa!"

He slid into view of the cameras with jazz hands, laughing. The Doctor didn't know how to get close to the man now, and no one was sure what was going on to do anything.

"Sorry, sorry," came the lie, "I have this effect, people just get obsessed. Is it the smile? Is it the aftershave? Is it the capacity to laugh at myself? I don't know, it's crazy!" The Master's overacting set almost everyone on edge. This was not the man they had thought he was.

"Saxon what are you talking about," the President demanded, trying to reassert dominance.

"I'm taking control, Uncle Sam. Starting with you," with that, he signalled for the Toclafane to kill the irritatingly self important President. They shot the man, burning up his body immediately and leaving nothing left.

The armed guards onboard sided with the Master as they had been paid to do, as everyone scrambled back away from the manically laughing Time Lord. Across the world people were stunned and horrified at the sight they were seeing. Lucy smiled widely at her husband in approval at the chaos surrounding them, while the Master rapidly clapped his hands.

The Master went to address the Earth, finally showing his true face to them, and the Doctor ran forward to confront him, unable to idly stand by any more, now that his previous plan was moot.

Before he could get very far, he was taken down by the guards grabbing him.

"We meet at last Doctor," the Master laughed, pleased, "I love saying that."

The Doctor struggled against the guards and shouted at the Master to stop. The Master ignored him.

"You think a perception filter's going to work on me?" He sneered, "and look, it's the girly and the freak, although I'm not sure which one's which."

Jack ran toward the Master just in time to get shot by the Master's laser screwdriver and be killed, much to the surrounding people's added horror.

"And the good thing is, he's not dead for long. I get to kill him again!" The Master's eyes were wide and crazy.

The Doctor desperately pleaded for the Master to stop what he was doing, "it's that sound. The sound in your head, what if I could help?"

Corvus knew that it was the wrong thing to say. The Master would never accept 'help' in the middle of a plan in front of the entire world when he was winning. In his mind the Doctor was only now offering in order to save his precious humans. It would make him angry and vicious.

"Oh how to shut him up," the Master curled his lip in disdain.

Everyone observed with a sense of terror and disbelief, as the Master used the Lazarus technology he'd funded, and the Doctor's biological code from his severed hand from when he first regenerated, and speed up the Doctor's ageing by 100 years.

Martha didn't think she'd ever heard the Doctor scream like that, and many people wanted to avert their eyes but found themselves unable to look away from the screaming thrashing Doctor.

Corvus, highly interested in the phenomenon that was the now alive Jack, noticed the Captain hand Martha something from his wrist. He had an idea of what it was, but said nothing.

The Master once again used Martha's family against her, by having them brought into the room handcuffed. Before he energetically leaped back in front of the camera.

"So! Earthlings," he said with some contempt, "basically, um, end of the world. Here come the drums!"

He raised his hand dramatically, holding his laser screwdriver aloft, and started some upbeat music, as the paradox machine he had built out of the Tardis started working, the sky cracked open and billions of Toclafane flew through the crack and down toward the Earth.

The Master watched out the window, triumph on his face, whilst Lucy danced to the music with a smirk. Even Corvus tapped his foot and bobbed his head slightly.

The Master held his wife to his side and asked as they both looked out of the large window, "how many do you think?"

"I- I don't know," she breathed in awe.

"Six billion," he switched the music off, "down you go kids!"

The Toclafane descended onto the Earth and began to slaughter the helpless people waiting for them.

"Shall we decimate them?" He breathed in his wife's ear seductively, she turned to face him, colour in her cheeks and her breath quickening, '"nice word. Sounds good. Decimate," his voice slightly husky, before looking back to the window.

"Remove one tenth of the population!"

The Doctor almost thought he could hear the panicked and terrified screams of the people below, as he whispered to Martha and told her to leave.

She stood back, tears dripping down her face, and looked at her family, huddling together and staring back at her with hopeless eyes.

Finally, she pressed the button and teleported back to Earth. Jack saw the determination, anger and fire in the Doctor's withered face, and knew he had a plan, even if hope seemed lost now.

Corvus had watched this whole exchange, instead of the massacre going on below, with interest. The aged Doctor locked eyes with him, and he too saw the determination and fire in the man, before it was hidden behind a mask of helpless grief and rage when the Doctor was forced by the Master and Lucy to watch the world start to burn.


	2. The Valiant Crow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his imprisonment on the Valiant, the Doctor has time to think. Not always a pleasant past time for a Timelord - especially circumstances being what they are. What he needs is a distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more like a mini chapter. Before I start to write the rest of what would have been this 6-10k word chapter, I’d like to know if readers would rather I spend a few chapters on developing the pre relationship of Harry and the Doctor on the Valiant, or summarise the year in a single chapter and focus on their development after the year that never was is fixed.
> 
> On the Valiant would mean a greater depth look at how they got to know each other and what exactly was said/done at times. It would also stretch out the mystery of Harry back story. The latter would lead to the same sort of development occurring but laid out a bit like in the shows- where more adventury stuff actually happens alongside.
> 
> Either way romance would probably happen around the same pace for the reader.
> 
> <3

It had been three weeks since the end of the world began. The age of terror. The Master was caught up in his plans of universal warfare, Lucy too was enamoured with the Master's plans -his charismatic, if psychotic, charm thoroughly distracted her from almost anything else. Corvus, as always, was a useful ally of the Master's and helped in any way he could. He was the only one out of the three of them who did not participate in or seem to enjoy the Master's near daily taunting of the ancient looking Doctor. If anything, he seemed indulgent of the other two in their vicious taunting, but nothing more.

 

The Doctor had been largely stuck in his tent with his dog bowl to eat out of, silent in his grief and horror once he had finally figured out what exactly the origin story of the Toclafane was. His eyes held a distant sadness and a muted rage, as though his mind was always preoccupied with something else to feel much more.

 

Despite the Master's near obsession with the Doctor, he was fairly easily distracted with his plans and it often fell to Corvus to ensure the Doctor received the bare necessities besides food and water, such as a wash and clean clothes. Despite this, it was still nearly three weeks before Corvus and the Doctor actually spoke to each other.

 

Corvus approached the Doctor himself for his wash, rather than delegating a guard to help the old man. He strolled casually toward the Timelord’s tent, hands in pockets.

 

“Get up. Wash,” he informed in a slightly bored tone. The Doctor heaved a silent and tired sigh, before exiting his tent in a crawl.

 

The Doctor was exhausted in his body and his mind was constantly working away, leaving him with very little energy. He craned his neck upward and saw with some surprise that it was the Master's fake son himself who was to see to the Doctor's needs.

 

After the brief flicker of emotion he shrugged it aside and looked left and right for his wheelchair, slightly resentful as always for his need for it. He was used to his ability to run to and fro, wander here and there that to have his mobility restricted to such an extent was painful.

 

When he saw no wheel chair he looked up at Corvus in confusion. Did the young man expect him to crawl? He wouldn't put anything past someone who appeared to get on with Master so well.

 

“You'll be walking today. You still can and your muscles need fairly frequent use or they'll atrophy eventually. The Master may be a genius but he tends to forget about the little details like this. I think he's so used to you being mobile and dynamic and beating him that he doesn't know quite what to do with you now you're old. Besides mock you.”

 

The Doctor said nothing in reply, holding fast to his silence, and shakily made his way onto his feet. The lazy geniality of the young man’s tone was something of a surprise, but he was all too aware that sometimes cruel hearts lay behind appealing fronts.

 

The light touches to his elbows as The Master’s fake son gently manoeuvred himself into a position to support him if the doctor stumbled was even more of a surprise. It was a casual move that seemed more subconscious than anything, and perhaps another would have taken Corvus’ actions as pity, or pointed condescension, or perhaps something he was instructed to do. The Doctor, however, saw the unthinking and at ease quality of his support and knew better.

 

With brief nudges to his back from the other, the Doctor began to walk in a direction that was unfamiliar to him.

 

“Sir, the showers are in the other direction,” one of the armed guards by the doors commented in confusion.

 

“I’m aware. My rooms are closer, however. They too have a perfectly serviceable shower,” came Corvus’ firm voice behind the Doctor’s ear, not unkindly.

 

“Yes, sir,” the guard stammered in response, flushing red slightly.

 

The journey toward the private bathroom passed at a slow shuffle, but the silence between them wasn’t awkward or tense.

 

“I’ve sent for a clean pair of clothes. They’re nothing quite so personalised as your current outfit, but I’m sure you’ll manage,” he informed the Doctor as they entered into the man’s impressively sized room, toward his en suite, “there’s a plastic chair in there in case you need to sit down while you wash. I’d wait for you out here, but everyone on this vessel has been informed by the master not to leave you alone in a room at all costs.”

 

It was only as they stepped into the large bathroom, where he was left to his own devices while Corvus sat in the corner on a seat and began to tap away at a phone, that the Doctor realised he was getting to clean himself with hot water for once.

 

It was such a small pleasure in the grand scheme of things, but he allowed a twitch of his cheek that might have become a smile if the world wasn’t looking so very grim.

 

As the weeks went by, it became clear that either by convenience, the masters orders or out of personal choice, Corvus had taken over the Doctor’s scheduled shower. Words rarely passed between them at first, and when they did it was always from Corvus to the Doctor. However the young man was never actively cruel, and although he was impersonal like everyone else he was different.

 

The guards regarded the Doctor with a mixture of dehumanising apathy, and respectful wariness; he was clearly the master’s enemy laid low, someone the Master took pleasure in publicly humiliating time and time again, he slept in a tent on the floor and ate out of a dog bowl, but he was also someone powerful enough that the master would consider them an enemy in the first place, a shared race with the master, a shared history, someone the master himself was still wary of in many ways despite his physical incapability. The guards were all too human in their reactions to him.

 

Corvus on the other hand, was something of an enigma. The young man more than anyone else should have been aware of the Doctor’s inhumanity, of his age and his power, due to his closeness to the Master thanks to the young man’s ability to weather the mad Timelord’s capriciousness without blinking an eye.

 

And yet.

 

The Master’s fake son seemed to treat the Doctor with more humanity than any other. He was not humbled, or wary, nor pitying nor disgusted at what he saw when he looked at what was left of the mighty race of Timelords.

* * *

 

Month two approached on the Valiant, and the Doctor had not opened his mouth to say a word, but he had been watching and listening. He had witnessed the guard rotation in all areas of the Valiant he got to see, he had listened to the idle gossip they occasionally shared with each other in his presence, he had remembered their names and their personalities, he had snatched tidbits of information about Martha’s family and Jack and hoarded them carefully.

 

He watched as the Master became slowly but steadily more manic the longer he was pent up without an enemy to actively defeat. He heard the faltering steps of Lucy Saxon on the days she had been on the receiving end of the Master’s building intolerance.

 

He saw the uncertain side eyed glances the guards gave each other when the Master swept into the room with too little challenge, too little to do, this was too easy, no fun, boredboredboredboreddrumsinmyhead.

 

He saw that on the surface things appeared as terrible and hopeless and seamless and unbeatable as ever, but cracks were showing underneath. Bit by bit, muttered doubt by muttered doubt, day by day. The Master never had been good at keeping people loyal who weren’t forced to stay there.

 

Which made the steady and unwavering rock that was Corvus Saxon all the more noticeable.

 

Even at the Master’s most unstable, the young man could withstand the tempest that was an unhinged Timelord. The Doctor never saw or heard of a flicker of dissatisfaction from Corvus. The young man stood aside without a twitch when the Master tormented Jack in front of the Doctor, or invented a new and cruel humiliation for him.

 

The Doctor knew there humans out there that just didn’t feel emotions the same as everyone else. Those incapable of empathy and with no regard for the well-being of their fellow man. Corvus gave every indication of being one of these people.

 

Except that when the Doctor was alone with Corvus, he caught glimpses that just didn’t fit. He was courteous, polite, mindful of the Doctor’s physical difficulties and sometimes he said things that gave little hints of someone who just didn’t fit with who he was the rest of the time.

 

Despite the Doctor’s constantly tired mind, he still had far too much time to do nothing but contemplate. He had hundreds of years to think back on and mull over, but that way lead to just as many tragedies and disasters as victories and happy memories. No, he’d rather think on his current situation for all that it didn’t offer much more appeal.

 

He was wracked with guilt when he considered Jack and his own powerlessness to help, and so he turned his mind away from the man when he wasn’t in sight - besides, if there was anyone who could come out of being treated so awfully with their sanity mostly in tact it was Captain Jack Harkness.

 

Guilt was also present when he thought on Martha’s family, but from what little he’d heard, they were keeping their heads down and doing their best to blend in for the time being. Martha... everything hinged on Martha and he was simultaneously sick with worry about her and desperately clinging to his belief in her.

 

At least he could be certain that if there was any news on her he would know at the same time as anyone else outside of the Saxons. Whenever information came through on Martha, the Master lit up with rage, joy, hatred, charm and madness as he chased her across the globe and rubbed the hunt in her allies’ and family’s faces.

 

At the end of the day, though, there was only so much he contemplated Martha’s current journey without a recent update of information. His thoughts could whir endlessly no doubt, but it would be a fruitless and frustrating endeavour.

 

The Master was too heartbreaking for him to think on much - the Doctor was filled with too much ugly emotion around his fellow mad Timelord, this new wound was too raw - so he chose not to.

 

When he considered Lucy Saxon, he only felt a deep sadness. She was clearly under the Master’s thrall in more ways than one. The Master had used hypnosis and brainwashing to enforce loyalty and obedience in people who owed him nothing before, and clearly he had done so again. The Timelord treated her more like a pet he was increasingly inclined to abuse, and with her helpless mind and need to remain obedient sometimes she appeared as an abused pet too.

 

Even if the Master’s control over her broke, it was likely that what he had done to her when she was helpless to him would deeply tarnish the health of her mind.

 

The Toclafane... he just couldn’t.

 

All that was left to ponder over and pick apart was the contradiction that was Corvus Saxon. So for a lack of anything better to do, he did.

 

Which was why, when month two passed on the Valiant, he finally broke his self enforced silence toward the young man, once they were in the privacy of his rooms.

 

“Why,” he quietly rasped, looking ahead as he stepped toward the bathroom.

 

If Corvus felt any shock at the Doctor speaking, it wasn’t present in his voice when he replied.

 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Doctor.”

 

“Why do you follow the Master?”

 

Corvus’ footsteps paused in the entrance to the bathroom behind him, and the slight pressure of his hands left the Doctor’s elbows.

 

“I was there right from the start, when this blue phone box appeared out of thin air, and a mad alien with an insanely ambitious plan walked out of it. I knew then, that no matter what I had seen and been through, I was witnessing the edge of something so much bigger than I was, and I needed to know more.

 

“He took us to the end of the universe - Lucy and I, but just me at first. I saw it. I felt it. There was nothing but the last clinging crumbs of life. Black. Empty. Inevitable. What I saw terrified and confused and intrigued me. There was just death, and there was the Master. So I chose to follow the Master.”

 

“You chose genocide,” the Doctor rebutted in an unforgiving tone. There was a brief pause.

 

“I suppose I did,” Corvus replied, sounding as kind and calm as he ever did.

 

No more words were shared between them that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also for anyone who chooses to let me know which of the two directions they would prefer going forward, I also post on ffnet and will be asking the same question of those readers. I’ll take both into account when writing the next bits but I’m only going to be writing one version. So... one site may outvote the other.

**Author's Note:**

> Harry looks about 19-22 in this story btw


End file.
